


There on the Day

by fantasticalbastards



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blood, End of the World, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 10:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasticalbastards/pseuds/fantasticalbastards
Summary: Darkness, silence, blood and pain – the dying thoughts of Gerard, who believed perhaps he could be immortal, as the end of all human life creeps up on him.





	There on the Day

**Author's Note:**

> My first story on this site!
> 
> I wrote this in the freezing cold on an uncomfortable bed at two in the morning. Usually I procrastinate my story ideas until I don’t even like the story anymore. But I just wrote this, a short fic depicting the end of the world without any descriptions of why the world is ending. 
> 
> Title taken from the song disenchanted by mcr.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

It started with darkness.

He’ll never quite be sure, but darkness was certainly the most prominent feature. It seems almost strange he even questioned the darkness, but there was something within him, something hidden deep inside him, that doubted that it was, or could even be considered, darkness.

Gerard hadn’t expected the end to come so tersely. Maybe it was his many years, maybe it was his lack of peril, but sometimes Gerard felt perhaps he would never die. When you’ve been hit by significant tragedy, when you’ve been close to death before, especially when you’ve tempted death, after a while, and you find yourself still alive, you begin to believe you’re immortal.

But immortality proved itself a fantasy, and the minute all the lights went out, he knew this was it.

Gerard sighed.

“Is it dark for you too?” Mikey’s voice, enveloped in the pitch, questioned curiously.

Frank and Ray chorused, “Yeah.”

Gerard closed his eyes, although he didn’t see much point. It just felt natural. “Do any of you feel scared?”

“No,” Frank replied bluntly. “Actually, I feel peaceful. Like I’m powerful or something.”

“Empowered with clarity?” Gerard felt Ray’s hand brush over his as he spoke.

“Yeah. Like I could do anything. Like . . .”

“Like you’re emancipated?” Mikey said.

“Yeah.”

“Emancipated from negativity,” Gerard followed. “Like depression doesn’t even exist. Like everything will be okay. Like this.” He hesitates. “Like this couldn’t possibly be the end.”

Next came the silence.

Not the eerie silence, the abandoned type that relentlessly reminds you of suffocating loneliness. Rather one that calms you – a collective understanding that nothing that could potentially be said would ever alter the forthcoming event.

Gerard almost found himself smiling, and could sense the turned corners of the mouths of his friends around him. It was like a breeze; every pair of lips upturned into sublime joy breathed a single gust of cooling wind that he discovered himself relishing. He tried to pick out each breeze and assign it to someone. He figured the wind with the faintest taint of smoke belonged to Frank, the one that seemed sweet and cleansing was Ray’s, which left the sharp and crisp one to Mikey. Gerard wondered what his felt like, what the others associated him with – if they’d even acknowledged it. Maybe the others hadn’t even noticed that distinct breezes drifting gently around the room. Maybe Gerard was just imagining it.

The silence was calming though, and so was the darkness. Gerard didn’t even care that this was the end of the world, or that he was mere moments away from imminent dissipation. He didn’t care his friends would dematerialise along with him. He didn’t even care if there was no such thing as an afterlife and that this would be his last conscious moment with those closest to him, that he couldn’t see their faces or exclaim he loves them. 

To him, their presence, their existence, was redeeming enough. 

Soon after, though, came the blood.

It began with a nosebleed, a sharp numbness in Gerard’s face he recognised but in this moment didn’t detest. The warm trickle down his face that grazed his neck, before gracefully falling to where his hands rested upon his lap – it was almost a celestial moment for Gerard. 

It soon progressed into the open wounds. All over his body, from his forehead to his parted lips to the veins in his neck and wrists to the healed scars he’d collected over his years. A tempting moment of agony and poignancy, reduced to absent pain, a nihilistic instant. 

He felt nothing as the blood poured out of him. Nothing, not until he felt Ray’s bloody hand gripped onto his.

This was the moment the darkness and the silence and the blood began to cloud over the serenity and tranquility. The moment Gerard could feel relentless pain surging through his body, a strangled scream at the base of his throat, punching and kicking to be expressed. Suddenly his body was convulsing and his eyes were rolled back, and the darkness he felt before soon became sheer white, blinding him, making his eyes ache. 

He felt his breath constrict, like a grip on his throat, painfully choking out every exhale and heaving every inhale.

He felt himself panicking, desperately wanting to scream, “I love you! I love you!” to the three boys surrounding him, desiring to pull them in tight and hold on to them as if not even the strongest force would dare to separate them. He wanted to thank them, to praise them, to say goodbye to them. Anything. Anything that would make the potential dearth of the afterlife suffice.

And soon after the convulsions diminished, and the nebulous pain wore off, he was left panting.

His own breath, an irregular pattern in between Frank, Mikey and Ray’s, the harrowing swallows of saliva and blood. 

He didn’t want this to be his last memory. Fuck, he didn’t want this to be his last waking moment.

He tried to speak, to force himself to work his heavy tongue, but all he could feel was his knees dropping to the floor and scrambling to where Frank and Mikey stood, dragging Ray – whose hand was still gripped deathly tight to Gerard’s – with him. He soon had his arm around Mikey’s body, yanking him down and holding him tight, while he felt Ray reach for Frank’s callous hand.

None of them could speak. Only their tightening breaths communicated for them. Gerard could feel hot tears forming in his eyes as the four of them wrapped around each other, comprehending their collective anguish, attempting to choke out their farewells.

And in this moment, their grips on each other began to loosen. Gerard felt faint as he noticed the men around him slowly start to fade, just as he felt his body retire and convert into nothing.

The darkness and the silence and the blood and the pain – now dematerialisation. No time left to grieve or to regret or to pity.

Only desperate time to hold on as tightly as possible. Constricting grips on each other’s hands, painful sobs shared as they experienced their dying breaths together. There on that day, the last day, relishing clarity into misery.

And soon, there was nothing physical left of him, or of anyone else, and the memories and connection he’d collected through his many years, his hopeful belief that perhaps he might be immortal, ceased to exist.


End file.
